Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Aren’t dreams awesome? I wish I could remember all my dreams—they are so bizarre. The other night I had a particularly vivid dream that I was able to recall when I awoke.

It is told in fits and starts, the way it came back to me.

We’re riding in the car, all 5 of us. We are driving through a field with enormous houses scattered about on either side of the road. Like a golf course community, but only 10 times more grandiose. We pass one house that looks as if three homes have been attached together. I am taken by the beautiful decks that connect the parts of the home.

We continue driving until we arrive at a massive all brick home. It is the size of a large high school. It could fill an entire acre of land.

We are now in the guest bedroom where we will be staying. All 5 of us. The room itself is larger than the footprint of our current house. There is a family of deer in the room. The fawn walks by me while I am sitting in an office chair. She puts her little front hooves on my lap. She looks up at me and bleats like a goat. I say we should name her Bambi. The buck comes over and nudges her along. They casually leave the area, but they do not leave the room.

There are people working here. In this guest bedroom. With the deer. A young woman in a business suit sits at a desk. The desk is huge. Like two banquet tables at a 90 degree angle. She only has a framed picture on one side and a spilled drink on the other. She walks into the office of two male employees. I take note of her shoes. Plain pumps.

I’m in my husband’s tattered old pajamas and my hair is disheveled and dirty. We will be joining the owners soon and I am aware that I look rather unfortunate. I gather some of my hair in a scrunchie. I point out to my husband that I have not merely donned a pony-tail, but have pulled back a simple, flattering amount of hair. I say I don’t want them to think I’m poor.

Our dog is also in the bedroom. I’m worried because he has no tags. He might chase after the deer and run away. In this really big guest room.

Perhaps this is why I cut the heads off of spoons and grind glass when I’m awake.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

I love craft shows. I love going to craft shows and I love selling at craft shows. Art is my hobby, my passion, and my part-time job. I never fail to get excited when talking about my art: the materials, the techniques, the ideas. And I enjoy hearing shoppers tell stories of their creative endeavors and sharing their art experiences. Fairly low on the list of reasons why I do craft shows is actually selling things and making money. Still, I stir at the possibility of a sale…

The woman and her children approached my table with purpose. Something had caught her eye. She picked up a simple ornament, beveled glass diamonds, soldered together to resemble the Texas star, and turned it in her hands. The little piece is a sensory treat- the glass, thick and smooth, is usually cold, the soldered tips-just pointy enough, and the weight is just right. It feels good in your hand. They all nodded approvingly, she smiled at me, offered the obligatory compliment and then gently set the piece back on the table. She’d need to show her husband. They wandered away and I returned to my perch, a bit confused. I thought I had a sale. The woman returned later with one of the children and asked if I would mind holding the star for a while. This felt promising and I readily agreed. Later, one of the children tugged her father up to the table and showed him the star. He exclaimed over it as well, agreed it was lovely and returned it to the table. The woman returned once more to look at it and then left again.

When she left the room, neighboring vendors voiced their opinions on this odd display. “God woman. Get a backbone. If you want it, buy it! Why do you need your husband’s approval?!” “Like she can’t afford $10.00.” “You ought to tell her you can’t hold it all day.” I have a policy of never, ever, speaking negatively at craft shows so I kept my thoughts to myself- but don’t worry, I did think the same things. It was just so strange. I was definitely confused and slightly irritated by the idea that purchasing my little star was something that required a unanimous vote. It was frustrating. I didn’t like holding my inventory in reserve but I had promised I’d set it aside for her and I wouldn’t go back on my word.

Toward the end of the day, the family returned to consider the star one last time. Finally, they all agreed to buy it. As I began to complete the sale and wrap it up, the rest of the family slipped away, and the woman stepped next to the table. “You must think us a peculiar bunch making such a fuss over a little ornament.” I dismissed her concern with a smile and noted that I like to get my husband’s opinion on things, too and I thought it was nice. It was ok, but she needed to continue. “My sister died a few months ago and we decided that for Christmas we wanted to get an ornament that would remind us of her and represent her beautiful spirit. It had to be just perfect and everyone had to love it and be sure it was right. This star is just perfect for her. We love it. Thank you so much.” And she walked out.

About Me

Sometimes the hardest part of making arts and crafts is actually selling your work; and I mean actually letting it go. I really do love everything I make. I would love to KEEP everything I make. But, I also love making things and of course, buying materials, taking classes and trying new mediums, so I often find myself in this odd predicament. I know I have to sell my art, but I don’t want to (stamping feet)! But I have to. At least I am comforted by the knowledge that my Etsy friends will provide good homes for my treasures.
Have a wonderful day!